by Watson Davis
My mother loosed an arrow, sending it slicing through the air toward Fi Cheen, but he raised a hand, resurrecting his magical shield, catching the arrow, stopping it mid-air, blue ripples of magic radiating out from the arrow through his shield, the arrow gliding to the ground.
I lifted my hand, pulling the amulet up by its chain, touching my finger to my chest, tracing another symbol on my chest, the last symbol, and power trickled to my soul like water in the desert. Clutching the amulet, pulling energy from it, I willed the energy in, focused on one soul and one soul alone.
Tendrils wrapped around Fi Cheen, the black motes coalescing into a collar, and he clawed at his throat, tearing at the collar with his fingers, turning to me. Lightning licked out of his collar, buffeting him in his neck and shoulders, lighting him up. He grimaced and fell to his knees.
I stood, taking a deep breath, drawing Fi Cheen’s life force into me, his knowledge and his rage and his surprise surging in my mind. Fi Cheen crumpled, tottering backward, engulfed in the black tendrils swirling around him, striking into him, his body swelling, and exploding, spraying gore, his onyx ring flying.
A voice whispered in my ear, “I guess that will have to do.”
# # #
The portion of Silverhewer’s throne room remaining trembled, bricks and rocks breaking off, falling down. Holes opened up in the stone, some of the stones tumbling away, and along the outside, held out by an invisible force, devils and demons chattered, striking their fists against an ethereal barrier, the barrier shrinking.
My mother held Aissal’s hand, her eyes still covered, but Aissal’s head swiveled around, her eyes wide, strange.
“Everyone, hold on,” I said.
“Hold on?” Cole asked, spitting blood from his mouth, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, stumbling toward me. “What are you talking about?”
“Brace yourself.”
Aissal clutched my mother, pulling her close. My mother’s hand shot out as though she saw, snatching Rucker by his neck, drawing him to them.
My left hand clutching the amulet, I traced the runes on my body with the fingertip of my right middle finger, chanting words I’d learned from listening to Diyune—words that now made perfect sense—and this delicate snippet of earth below us, jerked upward, first a bit, again, and once more as though flung from a sling. We all struggled beneath the sudden pressure.
I expected this, I’d been through this, battered as though a hand pounded me down, as though the floor under me would crush me against the winds blowing past, but the others staggered. Cole fell to his hands and knees, shutting his eyes, clenching his teeth, and moaning. My mother hugged Aissal and Rucker to her, holding them against her breasts.
Above us and around us, a light appeared, the black mountainous demons with flaming eyes faded, speeding further away, receding faster and faster, the devils and demons drubbing on the barrier toppled away, pin wheeling down into the depths shrieking in rage, turning to chase after us through the rift between the realms created by our wake, the air roaring.
We arrived, with a lurch, back to our own realm, our own world, cold and frozen after the heat of the hell we’d been in, Silverhewer’s throne room reappearing around us, the ragged edge of our poor slab of stone not quite fitting with where it had been, surrounded by Silverhewer’s army, her soldiers, spellcasters, and shaman.
I had no time for them, the screeches of devils and demons grew louder, their clawing at the precarious and fragile seams securing this shard of reality in place, their claws appearing around the shredded edges where the stones realigned, in the broken hole where I had pummeled Fi Cheen.
“Who dies first?” My mother asked, lunging forward, placing herself between the soldiers and myself, Aissal’s hands on her shoulder, her head twisting, bow half-raised, an arrow half-drawn.
I wrapped my fingers around the amulet, squeezing my eyes shut, ignoring the revulsion of that horrid metal against my skin. I repeated the closing spell Diyune always cast, putting syllable after syllable, feeding them energy as it felt appropriate, the meanings of these words, unknown to me an hour before, now clear, begging Inare to grant me luck and skill. My marks glowed, but not a painful burning, a rightness.
Reality shifted, bending, snapping into place. The screams of the demons ebbed, the calls of the devils ended, the clawing stopped. I opened my eyes, sweat freezing on my brow, on my chest, my breath coming in agonized gasps.
“Where is the general?” a human sergeant stepped forward from the crowd of soldiers, clenching a mace in his fists, behind him, a fool with a velvet hammer and a painted face.
“This amulet holds the authority of the empress.” I held my left hand up, presenting the amulet to the confused guards arrayed before me, a mixture of orcs and humans looking to all sides for command, inching back away from me, drawing their swords, lowering their pikes toward me. “Obey me, or I will turn the lot of you into wights and make you obey me.”
“You killed her.” Arcled rose up to a knee, wobbling, unsteady, his hand on Agholor’s back, glaring at me. “You killed Silverhewer.”
Whispers exploded through the soldiers, each one whispering to the one at his side.
“I left her to rot in hell,” I said.
Arcled, eyes narrowing, body tensing, stared beyond me, behind me.
“We’ll send the lot of you to join her,” an old man said. Werens, the Onei shaman, shuffled into the room, glowing staff in hand, a host of Onei behind him, Karisa at his side with an axe in her hand and death in her eye.
“No. You’re going to leave the lands of the Onei.” So exhausted, I didn’t want to fight anymore. All the soldiers fighting against the Onei, all the merchants feasting off the spoils of our land, I wanted them all to go away leaving the Onei alone, leaving my friends and family alone, leaving anyone who wanted to stay alone. The amulet pulsed, thin black tendrils spraying forth, power swelling in me, hints of knowledge, bits of perception.
“Carry Agholor,” Arcled ordered one of the orcan soldiers. Arcled rose to his feet, a tendril connecting to him, passing my commands to him, and he motioned to the soldiers nearest to him. “Time for us to leave Windhaven to the Onei.”
The soldiers shuffled out, their eyes glazed, jaws slack, dragging Agholor behind them.
A tickle against the back of my neck, a voice whispered in my ear, “You will have power here, dominion over this land. You will be a force for good, battling against the empire, driving them back to the sands whence they came, subverting their people’s minds and hearts to serving you, the same as they serve Vellin now, using the same spells, the same techniques to beat her, to drive her from your realm, you need to do this, you need my help, my power. I offer this to you.”
I tossed the amulet on Silverhewer’s throne, and limped away, my friends and family following.
Aftermath
“Caldane!”
I glanced up from the table, from my steaming plate of stuffed squid, from my mug of Fosler’s ale, a blue sky overhead, sitting at a table outside the Trowel and Hammer Inn, minstrels playing in the square, shaking their igidi gourds, blowing their pipes, strumming their strings, ladies and gents dancing the Homecoming dance, humans crowding the square before Castle Windhaven, a castle empty of a ruler.
Waving to Rucker and his father, Fosler, I yelled over the noise, “Come, sit with us.”
Rucker ran over and slid in beside my mother, who reached out gingerly, her eyes half-healed but still too sensitive to see, found his shoulder, and gave him a hug. His father fit in beside him, beside Cole, stretching his hand across the table to me, forcing Cole back. My hand reaching across the table, I half-stood, taking Fosler’s strong hand, shaking it, smiling.
He said, “I can’t thank you enough.”
“No need.” I let his hand go, bowing my head, sitting back down. “Thank your son instead. He’s a hero.”
Aissal patted my back.
The minstrels began to sing a new song, a song about me, abo
ut tossing Silverhewer into the pits, comparing me to Tethan the Great. I closed my eyes, hiding my face with my hand, a gnawing in my chest that this was wrong, that I was not worthy of this, and no good could come of it.
Cole eased in closer to my side on the bench, the skin around his eyes dark, the skin of his face pasty and pale, hair hanging down in strings, and leaned his head toward me. “Have you thought of raising the army I spoke of?”
I twisted toward him, resting my arm on his shoulder. “You know I will do everything I can to help you regain your throne and to free your lands, but I don’t rule these people. I’m just a shaman without a tribe, a junior shaman with a lot to learn.”
“I’ll say,” Werens mumbled behind me.
“You could rule here,” Cole said, his eyes dark, serious. “You should rule here before someone else comes, and takes ownership of your fair city, someone not so honorable, someone not so wholesome as yourself.”
I laughed at him.
# # #
Vellin, the empress of the Nayen Empire, The Source of Truth, Liberator of Tesoro, The Promised One, Bringer of Justice, Slayer of False Gods, Destroyer of the Ohkrulon, turned from her vantage point overlooking the City of Nayengim in the fading light of dusk, the corners of her narrow lips turning up ever so slightly, eyes closing to blackened slits. Her skirts swishing around her like the hissing of a nest of poisonous serpents angry and hungry, she stepped down to the dais, holding out her thin, pale hand. “Dyuh Mon.”
“Ever your servant,” a thick-bodied, spindly armed man in thick layers of the latest fashion of satin and silk whispered. He fell to his knees on the floor, on the mirror-finished stone tiles, before the empress, taking the empress’ hand in his, pressing his forehead against it. He released it and lowered his forehead to the floor, squeezing his eyes shut, his heart thumping, mouth dry.
The empress raised her eyes to the beings waiting for audience, lords and ladies, priests and priestesses, all with some favor to request or some pitiful gift to give in hope of the return of the favor in the future. Her spidery fingers gestured toward the door at the far end of the hall. “I shall have a private word with this magician.”
The empress allowed them a moment of disappointment, a moment of hesitation before doing her bidding, but they all knew better than to speak out, to give voice to their frustration, to question her, to ask for another second of her precious time. The room cleared with shuffling and whispering and glancing back.
The empress glanced to her left, to the gaunt Onei standing in the shadows, careful to stay out of the light of the evening sun pouring through the window. “Even you, Gartan.”
Gartan held her gaze for a heartbeat, his eyes narrowing, questioning, confused, head tilting to the side like the faithful hound she so carefully, so painfully, trained him to be. He nodded, face stern with his disapproval, and disappeared in those shadows, slipping out through a passage hidden in the stones as silent as a tanto at the base of the skull. Vellin’s senses followed him, verifying he didn’t stop out of sight to listen as he did from time to time, almost begging for the punishments she enacted on his tainted, resilient flesh.
“You may rise.” Her fingers trilled, beckoning him.
Dyuh Mon struggled to his feet, the action awkward and halting, grunting, moving with the stiff joints of the aging, and bowed, sweat beading on his fleshy face, sweat stinking of fear, of worry. “Your worship.”
“I require your services to deal with a matter of a certain delicacy.”
“Of course.” Relief flowed over Dyuh Mon’s face, he exhaled and smiled, showing teeth filed to points and stained red. “I would do anything for you.” His brows knitted with confusion as he considered her words. His eyes drifted to the shadows and back to Vellin. “Something he couldn’t take care of?”
“Gartan doesn’t need to know anything about this.” Vellin smiled. She reached out, touching her fingernails to Dyuh Mon’s cheek, the skin dimpling beneath them, sliding them down to his chin. “I trust you can come up with a suitable deception?”
“Of course.” Dyuh Mon fought the urge to shiver, clasping his hands behind his back.
“General Silverhewer is missing. The Windhaven province has gone dark.” Her head twisted to the side. “This is not acceptable.”
“Yes.” Dyuh Mon tried to nod but her fingernails pricking his chin would not budge. “And Diyune? Shouldn’t he be the one—”
“He has his own problems, no concern of yours. I need you to go to Windhaven, find out what has happened, and return with that information.” She leaned forward, brushing her ice-cold cheek against Dyuh Mon’s, placing her lips by his ear. “Do not fail me again, wizard.”
Glossary
Acantha:
A family of flowering plants
Alyak:
A race of short, squat humanoids normally found in Earth and Fire based Realms with a talent for construction, engineering, and smithing
Amulet of Meyola:
A magical device created by the empress to facilitate inter-Realm spellcraft for one of her five archbishops
Aytherron:
The main river by Windhaven
Ba-ator:
An infernal Realm
Birgita:
A human southland kingdom bordering the Onei wastes and the ranges of the Greathouse, Brightfox, Ironserpent, and Skybear clans
Bodyweight:
A unit of measurement approximating 80 kg or 176 pounds
Brightfox:
An Onei clan with Inare the Brightfox as their principle deity
Chaykayni:
Lord of Healers in the Wind Coulven pantheon
Coulven:
A hybrid human race unique to the elemental Realms that has spread to others
Cusp:
The point of no return in a turning, the point at which the soul flees the body
Deadtown:
The abandoned ruins of the outskirts of Windhaven, created by the destruction of Windhaven by the empress when she assigned Silverhewer to hunt the Onei to extinction
Dedicated:
Someone sent to a monastery, dedicated to the service of the empire at the expense of their family ties
Dis:
An infernal Realm
Dispatro:
A god of the Infernal Realms who presides over Dis
Dissonances:
Disturbances in the magical fields separating the Realms making communication between particular Realms more difficult
Divine Realms:
The planes of angels and cherubim
Dotolu:
The Onei name for their continent
Drethona:
A one-time kingdom east of Shria
Drow Coulven:
A race of Coulven transplanted from their home in the elemental Realm of Fire to act as slaves in the Infernal Realms.
Evir-roots:
A starchy, sweet-tasting, tuberous root
Eye of Flames:
Caldane’s private name for the Amulet of Meyola
Fizer:
A small Shrian town in close proximity to Archbishop Diyune’s monastery
Fuzzworm:
A kind of caterpillar
Gate:
A passage between Realms
Gersark:
A one-time kingdom between Shria and Hafbergen
Ghostwalkers:
A division of Imperial guards commanded by Lieutenant Arcled of Dis
Giant:
A large semi-magical humanoid with different types coming from different Realms, stone giants from earth realms, cloud giants from wind realms, etc.
Giniet:
A small Shrian town
Godling:
The monetary system of the Nayen empire that includes Gods, Golden Godlings, Silver Godlings, and Nayens of several denominations
Great Forest of Ohkrulon:
The legendary forest of an ancient kingdom in the Nayen continent destroyed in a magical war between the Ohkrulon and
the Nayen because of the potency of the spells unleashed
Hafbergen:
A human southland kingdom recently conquered by the Nayen empire
Halberd:
A two-handed pole weapon
Hegner:
A Kilcoyn town close to the border of the kingdom of Morrin
Hell of Infinite Fire:
One of the Infernal Realms
Icefang:
A magical hybrid creature of low intelligence that hunts in packs
Igidi gourds:
A dried gourd filled with seeds and shaken to provide a rhythm for musicians
Inare:
A god, the Brightfox, The Messenger of the Onei pantheon, Patron of the Onei Brightfox Clan
Infernal Realms:
The planes of devils and demons
Kata:
The physical gestures and movements required for some forms of magic, also the basis for certain fighting systems
Katana:
A long, thin, single-sided, razor-sharp blade used by many civilizations from the Nayen continent
Ma’at Yalde Teholkul:
A legal document of the Nayen theocracy detailing a cleric or monk’s status and privileges
Maegrith:
A god of Storms and Lightning
Magelight:
A light spell cast by magicians and priests to provide light without fire